Saiyan-ism And Masochism
by Shinsun
Summary: Just a short one-shot I felt the need to write. Kakarot handcuffs Vegeta to his own bed in the middle of the night and proceeds to play a rather twisted "game" with him. S&M warning.


Saiyan-ism and Masochism

It was dark. Not completely pitch black, there was enough light for Vegeta to see the shadow of another person flitting through the room. Without even searching for ki, he knew it was Kakarot by his scent.

It had been a surprise to say the least to wake up handcuffed to his own bed. He didn't know what had made him suspect Kakarot was behind it, but he hadn't been as startled as he could have been to have that tiny intuition proven right. He'd already tried breaking the thin metal loop chaining his wrist to the bed frame, but he'd been quick to discover it was a ki-cutting manacle that had sucked away all of his power.

He sensed Kakarot drawing closer, the tips of his black hair outlined in the scant light filtering through the window.

"Uncomfortable?" the tall Saiyan asked in a dark voice that made the hairs on the back of Vegeta's neck stand up.

He strained futilely against the cuff trapping his wrist again, "Quite, Kakarot," he spat, "You want to tell me why the hell you've restrained me like this?"

"I figured it would make for an interesting _game_," Kakarot purred quietly, kneeling on the foot of the bed and scrutinizing the prince.

"Game?" Vegeta snarled, "You've lost your mind, Kakarot, now release me at once!"

He flinched as Kakarot crawled in a predatory manner until he was straddling the prince's lower legs, "Hmm, you're not really in a position to be giving orders, are you Vegeta?"

Vegeta's mouth dropped open in indignant shock, and he scrambled quickly for words filthy enough to direct at the smirking Saiyan across from him. None seemed adequate of the thorough tongue-lashing he felt Kakarot deserved.

"Now," Kakarot murmured with a demonic glint in his eyes, "Shall we get started?"

Vegeta gave up on his search for insults befitting his fellow Saiyan and simply scowled, "Dare I ask the rules of this alleged 'game' you're planning?"

A truly evil smirk crossed Kakarot's face, and Vegeta hoped to never see it again.

"They are very simple," Kakarot said softly, "You do not struggle, give commands, or refuse. If you speak, there will be a fitting _punishment;_ if you disobey the rules, same thing."

"That's ridiculous. What makes you think I'd agree?" Vegeta growled, then he noticed something in Kakarot's words. He asked scornfully, "What, there are no rules for you?"

Kakarot's teeth bared in a grin of excitement. "Exactly."

A shiver clenched Vegeta's skin before he could stop it.

"How do I win?" he asked reluctantly.

Kakarot's smirk slid sideways a little as he bit his lip in thought, "You won't. You _could_ win if you could make it through the game without speaking a word... but that's not going to happen."

"Are you challenging me?" Vegeta snarled angrily, attempting to lunge at the other Saiyan and throttle him, but only managing to dig the metal cuff on his wrist deeper into the skin, drawing a thin line of blood.

Kakarot's eyes followed the red liquid that trickled down Vegeta's wrist from the chafing metal.

"Yes, I am." he said matter-of-factly, "Now. No more talking or I'll have to punish you."

Vegeta opened his mouth to retort furiously, but immediately it snapped closed as he beheld the artifact gripped in Kakarot's hand as he held it up to the meager light. Unless he was mistaken, and he seriously doubted he was, Kakarot was actually wielding a _whip._

"You'll like this, I promise..." Kakarot purred lecherously, flipping Vegeta skillfully onto his stomach and leaning over his back, the long length of thin leather poised.

As Kakarot had probably expected, Vegeta's ability to speak returned then, despite his building trepidation.

"What the hell are you -?" he began scathingly.

He was cut off as the flogger lashed across the back of his upper thigh, once, twice, biting into the skin. And he cried out, but more in shock than pain. He hadn't thought Kakarot would actually _use_ the instrument he held.

"Kakarot, how dare you -?" he snarled, almost biting his tongue off as the whip carved another line into his lower back, recrossing itself as it fell a fourth time, making Vegeta's skin sting and burn.

Vegeta kept his mouth shut after that, refusing to give the armed Saiyan something else to whip him for.

"No need to resist," Kakarot purred, "You've already lost the game and are now racking up negative points for speaking..."

"Then release me -!" Vegeta began, only to be cut off as the whip slashed through the air again with a hot whistling sound, marking Vegeta's skin with more thin cuts.

"But the game's not over," Kakarot murmured, "It's only over when you cum for me."

Vegeta blinked against the sweat-spotted sheet pressed to his face, and spoke again in spite of the price for his words.

"What the fuck makes you think I'd -?" he demanded, swallowing a shout as that damned whip went to work on the backs of his legs, checkerboarding them with long red weals.

Kakarot's breathing sounded rough as he leaned over Vegeta's back again, murmuring carnally in his ear, "I'd say you love it from the way you're responding..."

Vegeta was utterly bemused, but he didn't reply; knowing well the consequence for speaking now. Gradually though, he became aware that he was hard, his filling erection trapped between his stomach and the sheets beneath him. Kakarot was right about one thing; his body was very interested in the treatment being inflicted on it.

"Well then," Kakarot purred softly, "Let's try something else."

Vegeta lifted his head and looked over his shoulder; slightly unnerved, slightly anticipating despite himself. He barely got a glimpse of Kakarot's hand approaching him before a dark blindfold was tied around his eyes. When he tried to remove it with his free hand, Kakarot snapped another ki manacle on the un-cuffed wrist and chained it to the bed as well.

"I'm going to need you to hold still," Kakarot whispered sexually, sitting on the slightly-sore backs of Vegeta's legs to hold them down. Vegeta grit his teeth to keep silent; he felt helpless, but he couldn't deny the throbbing beginning in his now fully-hardened member anymore. Some part of him - he wasn't sure how big that part was – was thoroughly enjoying the carefully-controlled pain Kakarot was dealing to him. Another part of him wished desperately for the ki to break the cuffs on his wrists and either escape or beat Kakarot into the ground for daring to touch him like he had... like he still was.

A hiss tore past his lips as something searing hot, wet, and sizzling dripped down his spine, his arousal jumped with unexpected pleasure/pain, and though his outraged flesh was shrieking against the burning liquid running down his skin, he couldn't help but utter a soft moan of disappointment as it cooled sluggishly and hardened to a sticky film.

"Wh-what are you -?" he stammered, confused. What the hell was Kakarot doing to him now? He couldn't see anything; and somehow that made the retaliating spill of more scalding, spitting liquid that poured down his back in response to him speaking even more intense, and strangely erotic. He inhaled, trying to smell the unknown substance, and caught a scent that reminded him of candles. Apparently Kakarot was pouring hot wax on his body as a new form of "punishment". He had to wonder how the other Saiyan had gotten it; or rather, where he'd been keeping it.

He hadn't even spoken, but another trail of blisteringly hot liquid wax came into contact with his skin shortly, some of it flowing into the recent cuts that had been inflicted by the whip before. His spine arched a little; somewhat to try instinctively to escape the heat, somewhat to ease the pressure on his aching cock.

One of Kakarot's hands smoothed over his skin slowly, wiping off the hardened wax trails and ebbing the pain substantially.

"Ready for more?" he asked dangerously.

Vegeta was about to spit a sarcastic retort, but he kept silent. Whatever he did, it wouldn't stop Kakarot from doing whatever he wanted to his exposed body. Like Kakarot said; he himself had no rules in this "game".

Vegeta gasped as his shorts were torn from his skin quite suddenly with a soft ripping sound, leaving him completely naked.

Something flat, thick, and made of leather struck him across the backside, and he couldn't stop a yelp from escaping him; his ass stinging and smarting, feeding his insistent erection. The leather object struck again – what he envisioned in his mind as either a belt or a reasonably flexible paddle, it could easily have been either – warming and alerting the tight skin, which must have been turning a pale shade of rose by now. A low groan shuddered from his throat as Kakarot beat him like this, and he could feel his arousal spreading pre-cum against his stomach and the sheets he lay on. And he said something he never thought he'd say in his life.

"Kakarot, please..." he moaned, forgetting briefly the price for speaking.

And Kakarot was on him, sprawled over his back on his hands and knees. Before Vegeta could grab a breath, the belt – yes, he was sure it was a belt now – was wrapped around his neck, cutting off a good deal of his air supply. He felt a sharp nip to his ear, soothed by a gentle tongue and a hot trio of words breathed against his face.

"Just trust me," Kakarot whispered, a tinge of the sadism he was clearly showing tonight coloring the words.

A shout released from Vegeta's restricted throat as something cold and hard slashed against the side of his hip and thigh. The battered blindfold fell from his eyes suddenly as Kakarot untied it with his teeth, and Vegeta blinked and turned to try to see what the other Saiyan was doing. In one hand, Kakarot held a thick leather belt, both ends clenched in his fist; looped around Vegeta's throat to choke his breathing. In the other he wielded what was obviously a length of steel chain, glinting sinisterly in the diluted moonlight. Along Vegeta's flank was a collection of faint bruises forming from the brief moment where the harsh metal had struck his skin. With what little he could see from this angle, he couldn't glimpse Kakarot's expression; but the ones he'd come up with in his mind were doing some interesting things to his throbbing erection. The other Saiyan had no clothing on his sweat-pricked skin, and he was clearly rock hard, though that particular area of taut skin hadn't yet come into contact with the prince's.

From all their tensing and straining, Vegeta's wrists had been gouged by the metal cuffs multiple times; deep cuts opening in the skin, leaking blood down his knuckles and forearms.

He was given no warning before the chain attacked his skin again, striking sharply down his calf and thigh before coiling briefly around his ankle, delivering a strange brand of agony and ecstasy as bruises blossomed beneath the cold steel. There was a pause. He couldn't get enough air into his lungs with the leather tight around his neck, and he gasped for breath in the brief lull as Kakarot kissed and licked absently down his face; the chain laying with a docile threat against his leg after its last strike.

"K-Kakarot..." Vegeta choked, unable to get the air he needed to properly voice the word. Kakarot snapped out of his daze quickly, the steel links of the chain clinking as it lifted from Vegeta's skin. He knew what was coming, and he tensed as the tall Saiyan brought the weapon down on his legs again, and again, each lashing fiercer than the last, until blood welled up from the chain beating the prince's abused skin black and blue. Vegeta screamed, the agony dizzying in its twisted pleasure; the chain terrifying in its brutal knowledge of his flesh's demand for it; and the blood sickening in its soothing caress of his skin. He hated himself for anticipating each slash, for relishing in the stinging ache of pain, and for being so deeply aroused when he was being choked and beaten by his one-time rival, who seemed to be enjoying the moment as much as he was.

Abruptly, both the contact of the cold chain and the pressure of the strangling belt vanished, and Kakarot sat back on his heels.

"Catch your breath, Vegeta," he said softly, setting the equipment aside, "I'm hardly finished with you."

Vegeta panted raggedly into the crumpled sheets under his chin, feeling small rivulets of blood flowing from the broken skin on his legs and wrists, the raw flesh where the hot wax had seared him, the stinging marks from the whip and the belt lashing him. All achingly painful; all blissfully so.

He winced and groaned as an oil-slicked finger pressed into his sensitive entrance, stretching and circling confidently; Vegeta was unable to refuse; and also unwilling, somehow. His erection was almost to the point of exploding from the excruciating pressure, and he was so desperate for release... And when Kakarot's lubricated cock slid into him, his spine arched dangerously and his teeth ground together, every line sliced into his back from the whip tautening and jabbing him with delicious pain.

But even then, Kakarot wasn't finished with his game, and a short cry left Vegeta's lips as the tip of a knife touched the bottom of his ribs, not cutting, just barely pricking. As Kakarot thrust with deliberate slowness, the blade flashed in the dark and split a small section of Vegeta's skin, blood trickling from the shallow wound. Vegeta moaned loudly, both in response to the pure pleasure of Kakarot thrusting against his prostate, and the pleasure/pain of the knife nicking his hypersensitive flesh.

Kakarot flipped him onto his back, pulling out briefly before re-entering. Every scratch, welt, bruise, and burn on Vegeta's skin protested the movement, and a grunt of discomfort escaped him between gritted teeth.

The knife was not forgotten, and it was much less tentative, wrenching across the skin of Vegeta's abdomen, lifting blood to the surface as he writhed in mixed agony and need for more of that twisted pleasure. Kakarot plunged deep within him over and over, running the knife expertly across the prince's belly, hot blood bursting from the wound, eliciting a shout and a thrash of desperation.

At last Kakarot tossed the knife aside – to Vegeta's mingled relief and disappointment – and dipped his head to lick the trail of red blood staining the prince's abdomen, still pumping inside him strongly.

A change in Vegeta's cries signaled his impending orgasm, and every muscle tensed as Kakarot stroked a hand down the prince's soaking arousal. Pre-cum ran thick between his fingers before Vegeta finally arched away from the mattress and drenched the other Saiyan's hand with hot seed, collapsing against the bed as the throes of climax roared through him, turning the edges of his vision grey.

Kakarot thrust twice more, teeth clenched, and then he came with a strangled groan, emptying himself deep within the exhausted prince.

Vegeta struggled for breath, every nerve still on fire, and slumped, beaten and loose with the aching afterglow. Kakarot pulled out of him gradually, reaching across to the bedside table. Vegeta flinched, expecting some new method of channeling sadism, but the younger warrior picked up a senzu bean between forefinger and thumb, turning back to the prince and unlocking the ki-cutting cuffs from his wrists.

Without a word, he gently opened Vegeta's mouth and placed the senzu inside.

As the bean worked its magic, healing the injuries, Kakarot dropped a light kiss on the prince's forehead and got to his feet, standing next to the bed.

"Vegeta..." he said softly; his voice sounded slightly rusted, "Thanks."

Vegeta blinked in confusion. Kakarot looked relaxed... no, that wasn't the right word, he looked... sated. Like he'd just thrown a huge weight off his shoulders. His ki was completely emotionally stable, contrary to the twisted up ball of energy he'd sported upon entering the room tonight. And Vegeta had to admit, once the last of the bruises faded, that he felt a million times better as well. Better than he had felt in a long time.

Nothing more was said. The two understood each other; it was a Saiyan thing. Something humans would not understand.

He inclined his head to Kakarot in a short nod, and the younger Saiyan vanished, using Instant Transmission, leaving the prince alone in the dark.

-Shinsun

_((Crappy ending, I think. Oh well. This was just a quick oneshot 'cause I had the urge to write something I've never been good at; S&M. I'm a little surprised I wrote it the way I did considering everything horrible that happened with whips, cuffs, burns and chains in Shavneral... It was a little difficult to apply the same ideas to a different context. I'll get back to my main stories soon, I just needed to write something short with no strings attached for once. _

_Thanks for reading and reviewing, as always, and I hope I didn't unnerve anyone too deeply with this._

_-Shinsun))_


End file.
